Snow drifts down outside.  Just a dusting.  Just enough to remind us Winter lingers even though Spring slides Her warm hand along His back.

There’s a gray, peaceful rightness to the morning.  My mirror.

Yesterday, I went to see a BodyTalk practitioner.  Several of my trusted friends have been talking about her for years.  So, in my new quest for alternative ways to manage my bipolar disorder, I decided to buy a session.  This was a huge financial decision since the session’s cost of $75 will eliminate everything but the bare essentials for the next month.  (No paying down on my Visa card or that stupid hospital bill until April.)  So, it was a big commitment, but I was determined to dive in and follow whatever instructions given me.

What I understand about BodyTalk is that it combines a lot of different modalities—the energy dynamics of acupuncture, osteopathic and chiropractic philosophy (also practiced at Be Well Chiropractic), kinesiology, Western medicine, medical intuition, physics, and mathematics.  The goal is to bring the body back into balance and make sure all the different parts are communicating with each other, especially the two hemispheres of the brain.

I found the one hour session to be quite powerful.  Practitioner Fonda Hall of Des Moines gave me an extensive history to fill out.  Then, with a gentle laying on of hands, tapping, and instructing me in particular eye movements, she zeroed in on my key emotional/physical issues.  At times I felt anxious, at times my stomach roiled, but mostly I felt calm.  When I left, I felt normal.

I was wide awake all night.  Not tossing or turning, just laying there, petting Henry who always knows when I’m awake and available for scritching.  And this morning… nothing.  Just this sense of peaceful rightness.  Chores done, apartment straightened, I’m simply fine.  The thought of having no money to work with this month feels wee and far instead of an elephant sitting on my chest.  Whether or not the podiatrist can help my pain seems irrelevant now that the splint he put on my foot is in the trash.  The probability that I’ll be alone all weekend doesn’t trip any panic switches or morph into loneliness.  My story revisions call me to come dance.  The collage I’m working on whispers answers about how to proceed.  I have plenty of playmates here.

But, there is something going on with my stomach.  I’m aware of it—a hollowness, a largeness, that makes me want to not eat.  This could be a first.

Fonda said it would take at least 24 hours to feel the full effects of the session.  So, I’ll see what tomorrow brings.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kitty
    Mar 05, 2011 @ 13:10:18

    I really LOVE this line… “My story revisions call me to come dance.”

    This is often a hard one for me… “I have plenty of playmates here.” I’ve been doing a lot of work lately about self-soothing. I have always just called someone to talk to me when I’m stuck or in angst. Lately I’m realizing that doing this may be soothing to me, but it’s not self-soothing, so to speak. It’s reaching outside when I could very well reach inside. What a concept!

    And look… one of your story revisions has already started dancing… “…my stomach… makes me want to not eat.” Have fun dancing with that one for a while!

    “Fonda said it would take at least 24 hours to feel the full effects of the session.” My guess is that you will be feeling the effects for a lot longer than 24 hours! Yeah for you!


    • Sandy Sue
      Mar 05, 2011 @ 16:02:18

      I totally grok the soothing/self-soothing dilemma. We need to learn how to calm and comfort ourselves, but reaching out for help is one of the methods. My knee jerk reaction is to keep my shit to myself, which can sometimes lead to more twisted thinking and isolation. Whenever I talk about my management skills with my therapist, she always makes me put “Talk to Someone” first on the list. I guess it’s enough to remember that there are options.


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